


Wolves and Wishes

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, And Ellen and Jo, Basically it follows A Game Of Thrones, But with some canon divergence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Don't hate me for any of this, I still am in denial about Kevin and Gabriel okay?, They are all the ages from the TV show, please?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 17:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1718276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A party trick from Gabriel goes horribly wrong and Dean, Sam, Charlie, Kevin, Cas, Jo, Ellen, Bobby and gatecrashers Crowley and Gabriel are catapulted into Westeros. With Gabriel badly wounded and Castiel 'out of mojo', the hunters are left to their own devices in the medieval society. Separated from one another, they must learn to play the game of thrones quickly. With Dean, Charlie and the Harvelles under the careful watch of the Starks, Crowley and Bobby at the Wall with an comatose Gabriel and Sam surrounded by hoards of Dothraki, how will Castiel and Kevin reunite everyone before the hole between universes closes and trap them in the Seven Kingdoms forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

 

The summer afternoon sunlight made the cars sitting in the yard of the New Roadhouse glimmer dully.

Bobby and Ellen had finally decided to tie the knot, and it was an open house engagement party. Jo, Cas and Charlie had all turned up that morning by invitation. It had been difficult getting a hold of Castiel, but he had come. Sam, Kevin and Dean had arrived two days previously.

The party was quiet, but sweet. It had been short notice as Bobby had had to ensure that no-one was on a job, but everyone had made it, with the exception of Sheriff Mills, who was out of the country visiting an old friend.

Dean sat down at the New Roadhouse bar. Ellen had spent months rebuilding the stop, and it had a project that they were all proud of. He grabbed a beer for himself just as Ellen began her toast.

"Thank you all for comin'. I know it was short-notice, but just wanted to let all you folks know who didn't already, that..." Ellen smiled at Bobby at her side. "Well, Bobby and I...we're gettin' married!"

Dean looked at the two of them standing together with a fond grin.

"Congratulations!" a voice joined the other well wishers and 'congratulations' being said around the room - one that not been there previously. Dean spun around. Gabriel was standing there with a smug grin on his face and definitely not as dead as he was supposed to be.

"Heya, boys. Ladies." he said, his grinning face annoying Dean instantly.

Sam stepped forward. "Gabriel."

"Heya, Samsquatch. Miss me?" He strolled over to Ellen and Bobby. "Tell ya what. I'll give you one on the house."

Gabriel had reached up to snap his fingers and everyone in the room, including Dean had surged forwards, blades raised in some cases, others (like Castiel) trying to stop those who had. The archangel was tackled to the floor just as his fingers snapped; then there was nothing but a crashing sound and white light.


	2. Of wolves and whores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up in a forest with Jo and is met with a rotting wolf corpse, Jo nearly rips off Theon's face and Cas and Kevin wake up surrounded by naked women.

Dean

 

Dean opened his eyes gingerly. He could feel the snow beneath him and he shuddered slightly. But there was a much stronger smell wafting through the air in proximity to him, and that concerned him much more. He lifted his head and nearly yelped. Directly in front of his face was what Dean could only assume to be a wolf on steroids, lying dead in a pile of bloodstained snow with maggots and bugs crawling out of its eyes.

"Oh man, that's gross." Dean grimaced and immediately jerked away from it. He glanced around, trying to avoid the empty blind stare of the rotting wolf's eyes. About six feet to his left, slumped against a tree, was a blonde girl nestling a bloody elbow, but otherwise okay. 

"Jo!" 

Dean got to his feet and ran over. Jo gave him a small smile, suppressing a shiver, which was understandable to Dean given that she was wearing a vest top in the middle of a snow-ridden forest. 

"I'm okay. It...it nipped me." 

Nestled next to her was a small albino wolf pup, with red curious eyes. It snuggled into her leg, its soft fur warm against Jo's leg. 

"Where are we?" she asked. 

"Hell if I know. That sonofabitch Gabriel must have sent us here." Dean replied, looking around to get a bearing of his surroundings, whilst helping Jo up. The little wolf pup at her feet looked rather forlorn, so Jo scooped it up gently into her arms, careful to avoid the curled claws that were on its paws. 

"Where is everyone? My mom? Sam?" 

"I don't know. Though knowing that winged dick, they're nowhere near." 

"Dean?" 

"Mm?" 

"What the hell is that?" Jo gestured to the wolf corpse. 

"A dead....er.....wolf?" Dean was hesitant, as he honestly didn't know. It looked like a wolf, but it was easily the size of a grizzly bear. 

"I don't know about you, Dean-o, but that is the biggest wolf I've ever see-" Jo suddenly stopped. Dean raised his head. He'd heard it too. Voices coming from not far away. The two of them ducked behind the tree and crouched down, waiting to see who or what it was. 

"Father, please?" A young boy's voice caught Dean's attention. He peered around the tree branches and took in the sight of the fur clad party. They were standing next to the wolf corpse as if it was a normal part of their day, which made Dean rather uneasy. 

"There are five pups, m'lord. One for each of the Stark children." Another voice. This one sounded closer to their own age, maybe slightly younger. Dean was confused. 'M'lord'? What was this, some kind of Renaissance fair? He listened again, still trying to determine if these were monsters or just really confused people. 

"You will train them yourselves, you will feed them yourselves, and if they die, you will bury them yourselves." A third voice, deeper and older sounding that the rest. Clearly the voice of authority, Dean thought. Suddenly, Jo gave a small gasp. The little wolf pup had scrambled out of her arms onto the floor rather unceremoniously, scratching her as it went. 

"What was that?" 

"Over there!" 

Two men, one with black shaggy hair and the other with short brown hair, both clad in furs, approached the tree. Nodding slightly at Jo, they came out from behind it with hands up, slightly taken aback by the two swords pointing at them. 

"Woah, woah, easy." Dean stepped back slightly, palms facing them. 

"Who are you?" The one with the shorter hair demanded and pressed the blunt of his sword against Dean's abdomen. 

"Look pal..." 

"Robb..." The other man said patiently. 

"Geez. Look, my name is Dean Winchester and this is Jo. We don't know how we got here, okay?" 

Jo spotted the white wolf pup in the black haired man's arms and smiled slightly. The man regarded her with interest. 

"You're not dressed like you're from the north." 

"Jon, they're not dressed like they're from anywhere." 

"Please," Jo said. "Dean is telling the truth. We were sat in my mom's bar and then all of a sudden we were here. Just, trust me, we're not here to hurt you." 

"You, hurt us?" A curt voice from behind Robb and Jon laughed. "Pretty girl like you, hurt us?" 

Jo scowled and stepped forward, fist curling around her knife, but Dean pulled her back. The man looked somewhere between surprised and impressed. 

"Hey, easy, Jo." Dean said. Jo stepped back, sending the man a glare that was so like her mother's that Dean almost felt frightened by her. It certainly worked on the man in front of them, as he looked rather put out. 

"Enough, Theon." The older man stepped forward and Robb and Jon parted to let him through. "What is the meaning of this?" 

"Look, we just wanna know where the hell we are so we can get on our way." 

"You're not far from Winterfell. I am Lord Eddard Stark." 

"Come again? What state is that?" 

"State?" The man looked at him with an expression that mingled confusion with a serious wonder and concern. 

"Yeah. Like, American state." 

"I do not know of this 'American', but you are in the north, and poorly dressed for such. We can put you up for the night at Winterfell, since you appear to be without supplies and...lost." 

Dean was faltering. Not in America? Impossible. Jo answered since words were failing him. 

"That'd be great, thanks." 

She started up the hill, smiling at the small boy who she quickly learnt was named Bran, before helping him with the wolf pups. Dean, still suffering from general culture shock, followed her up. It wasn't perfect, but he was cold, and he wouldn't be able to find Sam until he found a motel or decent phone reception or anything. Plus, he couldn't leave Jo on her own with these people, not under any circumstances. He stayed close to her the entire walk; partially because he was cautious of them, but mostly because he wanted to stop that Theon guy staring so intently at Jo's ass. 

 

Castiel 

 

Castiel was awoken by a high pitched scream. He immediately got to his feet, angel blade raised as a frightened Kevin clung to his arm. He looked around them and was instantly confused. This was not the Roadhouse, and it did not look like Heaven either, or anywhere Castiel knew of on Earth. 

"W-where are we? Where is everyone?!" Kevin said, glancing around. 

Castiel gently let go of Kevin and observed his surroundings. It was dark, with only a mellow pink light in the room. There was a distinct smell, and Castiel wrinkled his nose in disgust. The silk drapings around the room reminded him of somewhere that Dean had made him visit once. 

"This appears to be a den of inequity, Kevin. We shouldn't be here. As for the others at the Roadhouse....I cannot sense their presence. They must be far from us." 

"Den of in-what?" Kevin frowned. 

"Dean referred to it as a brothel." Cas could hear Kevin's heart rate increase next to him. "Don't worry. As long as we don't mention absent fathers, we shall be safe." 

"Oh honey, we don't care about that." A voice from behind him made Castiel turn abruptly. A girl wearing nothing at all bar a silk shawl over her shoulders was standing in the doorway. 

"I....why are you unclothed?" Castiel tilted his head and glanced at Kevin with a questioning expression. Kevin either did not hear him or did not know the answer, Castiel figured, as he said nothing and just gaped. He noticed that Kevin had gone a very deep shade of pink in his cheeks. The woman looked at him. 

"You're dressed funny. Who dresses like that?" She gestured to Kevin's polo shirt. "Must be new fashion, which means you must be some of them high lords." She smirked and stepped towards them. Castiel raised his angel blade. 

"Stay back." 

"Girl, what is going on?" A short but well groomed man with a mockingbird pin entered the room. "Is something amiss with our client?" 

"We...we're not clients. We're lost." Kevin stumbled over his words, still looking rather flustered. The man nodded at the girl. 

"I shall speak to our guests alone." The girl bowed her head slightly and left, making sure to waggle her hips on the way out. "My name is Lord Petyr Baelish. And who, may I ask, are you?" 

"Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord. This is Kevin Tran, the prophet." Kevin shot a look at Castiel which made him again question whether he'd said the right thing. 

"You work for the High Septon?" Baelish enquired. Castiel opened his mouth to answer that they worked for Heaven, not for a 'septon' of which he spoke, when a large whinnying noise came from past the window. He strode over to investigate. Kevin swiftly followed, rather reluctant to leave the angel's side in this situation. Outside, there was a large number of people on horseback going past; some wore white cloaks and had helmets on, whilst others could be seen with their heads peeking out of carts. 

"What's happening?" Kevin asked. 

"The King has headed north," Baelish replied from behind them. "And where the king goes, the realm follows." 

"K-king?" Kevin said. 

"Gabriel." Castiel growled. "He has sent us somewhere where the hierarchy is such." 

"That's who that guy was?" 

Castiel nodded. "He is an archangel, and he wields great power. He was assumed dead until very recently. Only he could have done this." Castiel turned to Baelish. 

"Tell me, where is this procession going?" 

"To Winterfell. To seek a new Hand of the King." 

"When will they be back?" 

"A month or so, it depends on how the Kingsroad is." 

"A real King..." Kevin looked out of the window with awe. "What do we do, Castiel? We have no-where to go." 

"You're welcome to stay here for a while. You can have access to all the girls, but I will charge you once you have money enough." 

"We canno-" Castiel was interrupted by Kevin. 

"That'd be great. We won't be trouble. Really. And, uh, we'll leave the girls alone for now."

Littlefinger nodded and gestured to the door. Castiel followed, keeping a close eye on Kevin. They would be able to sleep here whilst looking for Gabriel. It was far from ideal, but Kevin was a human and would need rest whilst they searched. Cas was worried about Dean and the rest of the people at the bar. Knowing Gabriel, they could be anywhere in this odd dimension full of ill modesty and inequity. His wings felt broken and useless, and figured that they must have been injured in the transportation to this strange world, so he would be flying no-where soon, and would need time to recover. 

Oh Dean, he thought, what is this sacrilege Gabriel has brought us to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comment please? Stuff you wanna see etc x


	3. Of baths and blades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie wakes up in a pile of mud, Dean and Jo arrive in Winterfell and Sam walks in on a naked Targaryen.

Charlie

 

'Ew' was Charlie's first thought. She was lying in the middle of a strange courtyard, her Moondoor tunic covered in mud and her hair a mess. Great, she thought. A hand touched her shoulder and she turned over with a slight yelp. She looked up to see a girl of around twelve or thirteen looking down at her, with fierce eyes and messy brown hair. 

"Who are you?" 

"Um. Charlie?" The girl looked at her with a raised eyebrow. 

"Arya Stark. Why are you lying in the mud?" 

Mud? Oh, right. Charlie lifted herself to her feet, brushing down her tunic, wishing she hadn't worn chainmail. She'd come to the party straight from her latest LARPing weekend, and was still dressed as her royal title. Arya just regarded her with awe. 

"You're a knight?!" 

"Huh? What, oh no, I'm the Queen of Moondoor. Above a knight." 

"Moondoor?" 

"Yeah, it's my LARPing gear. Um...." 

"So you fight people? You're not a lady?" 

"I....I'm both, I guess. One can always look good and fight evil at the same time. Like Eowyn." 

"Who...?" "Never mind. Where am -" Charlie didn't get to finish her sentence as a procession of men came into the courtyard. The eldest man muttered something to who Charlie could only assume to be his son before disappearing. 

"Come on, you have to meet Robb. I told him that women knights were real!" Arya said excitedly. 

"Um, er...okay." Charlie let herself be pulled off by the hand. They rounded the side of the horses when she suddenly let out a sigh of relief. Dean was stood there next to Jo, whose lips were turning blue. 

"Charlie?!" Dean exclaimed. 

"Buenos dias, bitches." She grinned and Dean ran towards her, hugging her tightly. 

"Boy am I glad to see you. You alright?"

"Jo!" A voice from a doorway shouted. Charlie turned to see Ellen stood there, also dishevelled; she had evidently woken up not too far from Charlie. She ran down towards them. 

"Mom! Mom, you're okay!" The two women embraced also, and Arya watched on in wonder, before turning to Jo. 

"Are you a lady knight, too?" 

"Arya..." Jon came over. "Don't be rude. These are guests. Now go to the kitchen, we have a surprise for you." 

"But..." 

"Trust me, you'll like it." Arya sulked and wandered off in the direction that Jon had pointed in. Theon had now stepped forward to look at Charlie. 

"Well hello, there. More frisky girls, hey bastard?" Jon frowned at Theon, whilst Charlie just laughed. 

"Don't worry about me, I bat for the other team anyway." 

"What team?" 

"Er," Dean wedged himself between Charlie and Theon. "What Charlie means to say is that you're not her type." 

"I'm every wench's type, just give me time." Dean was now starting to grin. 

"Oh you wish. Unless you've got boobs, you're not going far with Charlie." Jo was clearly trying to suppress a laugh when she saw Theon's bewildered face, while Charlie herself silently thanked Dean with her eyes. 

"Er, anyway....my hotness aside, where in the hell are we? Narnia?" Dean shook his head. 

"Nah, that sonofabitch Gabriel sent us here. This is like Moondoor, Charlie. Except really, really real." Well, that explained a lot. She glanced towards Jo and Ellen, who looked as concerned as she felt. 

"So we're stuck here?" 

"Thus far." 

"And Gabriel sent us here." 

"Yep." 

"We have no hope of returning home until we find him?" 

"Not really." 

"Well then....you wanna get in some sword practice?"

 

Sam 

 

Sam felt that of all the times that he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, this really took the cake. 

When he materialised, he didn't even have the time to pass out from his dizzying head and general feeling of nausea, as he appeared directly in front of a fair haired blue eyed girl carrying what appeared to be scented oil. The girl screamed and jumped back. Sam thanked his quick reflexes as he caught the jar. 

"Woah woah hey hey! I'm not gonna hurt you." The girl ran away and Sam followed. 

"Wait!" He turned the corner and walked in just as a woman with blonde nearly white wavy hair dropped her robe ready to get into a bath. 

"Oh, ah...I'm so sorry" Sam averted his gaze as the girl grabbed the woman the robe back off the floor. The woman took it, covering herself, though not with the haste that Sam would have expected. She looked at him curiously. 

"My lady Daenerys, we must call the guards." 

"No....wait." She turned back to face Sam. "You speak the Common Tongue?" 

"Uh..." Sam raised his eyebrows. "Yes, I suppose?"

Daenerys regarded him with caution. "Such a strange accent. How did you get in here?" 

"I....I don't know. I just sort of appeared. I'm sorry if I scared you." 

"You cannot have just appeared, there was nowhere to appear from." The girl next to Daenerys said. "My lady, I strongly advise-" 

"Let him speak." Dany said quietly. 

"My name is Sam Winchester. Would you mind telling me where I am?" 

"The house of Magister Illyrio. Western Pentos." 

"Pentos?" She nodded, looking intrigued. 

"Where did you say you we're from?" 

"I didn't. Look, I'm sorry I interrupted your bath, ah, my lady. I'll leave." Sam figured that Gabriel must have sent them somewhere really trippy this time. His best move would be to figure out where he was, and where Dean and Cas and the others were. Daenerys nodded. 

"It would be best. And...Sam, was it?" 

"Uh, yeah." 

"Look out for the guards on the door." She smiled shyly looking at him with her violet eyes and Sam couldn't help but stare slightly at the colour of them. Dany then stepped back towards the bath. 

"Um...that looks pretty hot." Sam said. The bath was steaming quite visibly, and Sam was pretty sure that it was bubbling slightly in the same way that boiling water would. 

"It's not." Daenerys said numbly. "Fire does not burn the dragon." She then began to take off her robe and Sam quickly left. She heard water sloshing on his way out but no screaming, which rather shocked him, as he was sure that that water looked scalding hot. A million questions were running through his mind, but the most pressing question in his mind was the most obvious: What was he going to do now? 

Unfortunately, Sam did not get the opportunity to linger on that inquisition long, as he turned a corner and came face to face with what appeared to be an entire army of men in a courtyard, with long braids and warrior like markings and expressions. 

Gabriel had really outdone himself, Sam thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, please? Tell me what you want (what you really really want)


	4. Of arrivals and anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean adjusts to life in Westeros, the royal family arrive at Winterfell and Crowley really, really hates the Wall.

Dean 

 

Several weeks of living in Winterfell had taught Dean several things. 

One, if you didn't wear the ridiculous furs, you got cold pretty damn quickly. The second was that it paid to be a hunter in this place. The moment that it had turned out that Charlie, Jo, Ellen and himself could read and write fluently, they had been treated with as much respect as the proud Starks could muster. 

Ellen had become quite good friends with the Lady Catelyn, and Jo was on reasonable terms with the whole household, especially Theon. Dean had had a silent gleeful moment of pride when he realised that Jo had the ward of Winterfell wrapped around her little finger. 

Charlie, naturally, was thriving. After the Marvel jokes had died down, she had fitted into the new setting quite remarkably. Arya absolutely adored her, and even had gained the respect of the elder sister Sansa, though not to the extent that the rest of the family had. Dean figured it was because Charlie refused to wear the dresses that Sansa had recommended her, and continued to insist on wearing her Moondoor armour, as it "gave her gutso" in her new environment. 

Charlie had used her LARPing skills to do some swordplay training, and even Dean had to admit that she had a natural talent for it. Her and Jo had been sneaking down to the courtyards early in the mornings to get in more practice. 

Dean, naturally, had wanted to fight too, with Jon and Robb. He stated early on to Jo and Ellen that he fully intended to learn how the people of this place fought so if it came to it, they were easier to beat. Dean had struggled with a longsword at first, but had persuaded Robb to let him use some of the long knives that were lying unused in the armoury, and he was quickly getting used to them (whilst building up his swordplay skills), and had even beaten Robb once or twice. 

Sadly, swordplay was one of the things that had taken a back seat the last few days, as the royal visit was now upon them. From what Dean had heard of them, the Lannisters were the most pompous sonsbitches anyone could ever come across. They were proud and he got the distinct impression that the northerners did not like them one little bit. However, King Robert was close with Lord Stark, so the royal visit was still highly anticipated. 

Ellen had grown rather fond of Bran, and Lady Catelyn and her were frequently telling the poor kid to stop climbing everywhere. No-one, thus far, had managed to stop Arya doing anything. If she didn't want to be found, Dean had discovered that she was pretty damn hard to find. The only ones she listened to were Charlie and her father, and that was only to an extent. 

The day of the royal visit finally came, and Dean was dressed for the first time like he truly belonged in Westeros. The shave had helped. Charlie and Jo had grumbled incessantly about the dresses, but Ellen had talked them into it eventually. 

Dean stood just behind Robb and Sansa when the riders poured in through the gates. The riders were even more extravagant than Dean had expected, with golden armour and snow-white cloaks. The queen had caught Dean's eye immediately, and Charlie's too. She was looking at her as if she were gold dust. She stood regal next to her twin brother and was certainly entrancing, but Dean could see the cold stare and deduced that she wasn't someone to get on the wrong side of. 

After the formalities (which he found tiresome, there were too many names), the King and Lord Stark disappeared and Dean was left to observe the people in the royal party. The knight with the burnt out face looked like he would snap Dean's neck like a twig, though the height of the man reminded him painfully of Sam. He missed his brother, and worried after him, and everybody else that had had to have come through as part of Gabriel's idiotic tricks. 

He figured something must have gone incredibly wrong, as Gabriel had not been seen hide nor hair, and there had been no sight of Cas either. Another painful pang. Cas. Dean missed the dorky little angel, and worried about him just as much as Sam. He had prayed to Cas many times since they had arrived, but with no reply or acknowledgement of any kind. The thought of Castiel hurt and alone in this strange land was an oddly painful thought that he continually had to shove away.

Luckily, the feasting was a distraction enough as it was soon to begin; Dean went to join the others in the Great Hall of Winterfell. He hoped that there would be decent pie.

 

Crowley

 

Crowley was losing it with Gabriel. Two weeks and the feathered dick was still unconscious. 

He hated this place, with its cold air and high Wall that Crowley found to be frankly ridiculous. The so-called Brothers of the Night's Watch were irritating with their lack of hierarchy, good Scotch and general comfort. 

Gabriel had clearly taken a hit and as much as he wanted to hit his stupid face right into the snow, he was Crowley's only chance of getting home. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that none of this was meant to have happened. Hell, he'd only been there to gatecrash a teensy bit. He'd only just arrived when the archangel blew up and sucked them all, including Crowley into this crazy place. Gabriel had evidently gatecrashed more effectively than him, but Crowley reckoned that this hadn't gone the way that he had wanted either. For one thing, he figured that the winged idiot would have wanted to see Moose and Squirrel's faces when he'd popped them in medieval fun land, yet they were nowhere around. 

The fun had doubled a few days ago when an incredibly pissed (in both senses of the word) Bobby had turned up at the Wall, threatening to kill Gabriel and Crowley in every way he knew how. 

"What in the hell did you do Crowley?!" He'd yelled, slamming the King of Hell against a wall. 

"Me?! I did nothing! It was the comatose dick with wings here!" 

Bobby had merely scowled and pushed him up against the wall harder. "Then how the hell do we get back home?" 

"I don't know, which is why I'm waiting for this moron to wake up!" Crowley shouted angrily. 

"Did we all come through to this crazy dimension?" 

"I would assume so, yes. Moose, Squirrel and your lady fiancee are probably running around headless here too." 

Bobby had let go at that point, clearly rather upset. After the initial temper tantrum, Crowley had to admit that the man had fitted in rather well with some of the men in the Night's Watch, who seemed to admire his knowledge base and ability to call everyone he met 'boy'. 

It was somewhat of a relief to Crowley that he had spent lots of time attempting to figure out where they were rather than try to cut short his life. 

Gabriel had still not awoken, and the impatience of Crowley was growing. The King of Hell did not like to be kept waiting regarding anything, and waiting to go home was not one an exception to this. He knew, however, that if he was not careful, Gabriel would leave him behind if they returned. And at the moment, 'if' rather than 'when' was looking increasingly more probable. 

Crowley avoided helping any of the brothers that tried to get him to fetch water or wood or anything at all by claiming that he wouldn't leave Gabriel's side. Crowley had absolutely no intention of spending any more time in the cold than necessary. 

He liked the hot fires that burned in the chimneys - they reminded him of Hell, and that was keeping his spirits up, but not much. He wanted to leave this backdated hell hole and return to his usual hell hole. 

He had a kingdom to rule, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENT, please!!~


	5. Of fights and flights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo challenges Theon to a duel, Castiel stretches his wings and a letter arrives for Lord Baelish.

Jo 

 

She was rather enjoying the royal visit. The feast had gone well, and she had gotten drunk with Jon and a group of the King's riders. If she could say one thing about these people, it was that they really knew how to throw a party. The hearty exchanged stories and drinking games reminded her of the Roadhouse, and she was soon beating them all at shots.

The next day was a different story. She was nursing a slight hangover, but then again, so did most of the entire royal court. She had rolled herself out of bed, not feeling as bad as she had expected, and made her way to breakfast, listening to her mother scold Dean for being a bad influence on the children for the third time this week. 

She sat down and happily ate rather blackened bacon and sausages. Arya and Charlie were sat discussing Nymeria, the warrior whom Arya had named her direwolf after, much to the dismay of Sansa and the princess Myrcella sat beside them, who were discussing stitching with Septa Mordane later in the afternoon. Her mother would be assisting Lady Catelyn with letter writing for the day, as Maester Luwin was occupied with treating those that had clearly drunk too much; this meant that Jo had the entire day to herself. 

She wandered around the castle, though it was sometimes difficult wearing what she was. Lady Stark had asked that for the remainder of the royal visit, she wear a dress, so as to not antagonise the royal family. Jo had grumbled but eventually accepted. Sansa had done her hair that morning and although she felt a little...no, a LOT stupid, she had to admit that she did, to some extent, look pretty. 

The castle intrigued her, with its high walls and cold stone. It was magnificent, but she felt a sense of entrapment too, and she pondered on whether they would ever be able to return home. Everyone was looking for ways, researching lore and asking around for Gabriel, but so far nothing had come up.

Jo had been asked by Bran to come and watch him spar with Prince Tommen. She had graciously accepted; she had a soft spot for the boy, and laughed at her mother's attempts to prevent him from climbing around the castle. The boy was incredible at it. She headed down to the courtyard, where she was delighted to see Bran getting ready to fight Tommen. 

She smirked a little at what the two boys were wearing. They were wearing layers of padded leather and looked frankly rather amusing; Tommen in particular resembled more of an onion that a boy. 

She strode across the yard and stood next to Robb, rather aware of the gazes that followed her. Robb looked rather amused; he had grown to know Jo well by now, and knew that she wasn't particularly enjoying wearing a gown. 

"How is the couture holding up?" 

"Shut up." 

Robb grinned. They stood cheering on Bran and Tommen until the Lannister boy fell on his back and Bran was declared the winner. Ser Rodrik, who was overseeing the event, was insistent that everyone use tourney blades rather than real steel. Since Joffrey had rudely refused to fight Robb and walked off laughing, Dean had offered to spar with him, as he had been working on his skills with a longsword. 

Robb, although still angry, accepted and fought Dean. Dean had adjusted well to the fighting style of the younger man and to everyone's surprise, beat him. It wasn't by much, but Robb had heartily shook his hand and told him that there was always a place for him at his side in battle. Dean had had the grace to flush slightly. 

They had all begun to leave the courtyard when Jo had a thought. 

"Wait." Jo said. 

"What is it, my lady?" Ser Rodrick drawled, hands tracing over his white whiskers. 

"Please, it's just Jo, not 'my lady'. And...I want a go." 

"But you're a lady-" 

"Please. I want to fight someone." 

"My lady, I cannot allow you-" 

"I'll fight her." Theon's curt voice rang out. He shrugged. "If it shuts her up. She's got some fire in her pretty little eyes. Make it a bet. If you win,..." 

"It'll be pleasure enough to see you fallen on your ass, trust me." Jo remarked, and she heard Robb laugh from behind them. 

"Yeah, but if I win, you gotta do something for me." Theon grinned wickedly and waggled his eyebrows, making the small crowd watching them 'ooo' slightly. 

"Deal." 

"Jo, are you sure about this?" Dean asked. 

"Yes, Dean. Now shut up and chuck me a sword." 

Jo stood to the side, and to the amazement of everyone watching, starting tucking her split skirt into her boots so the end result looked like a messily made pair of trousers. It wasn't ideal, but she could move much more effectively than in the stupid gown. Robb refused to let her participate unless she had some kind of leather padding for protection, so she had grumpily put that on too. 

"You scared, sweetheart?" Theon smiled wryly at her. "I'll go easy on you, don't worry." 

Jo rolled her eyes and set her stance, lifting up the tourney blade with ease. It wasn't unlike a longer machete, which helped. She circled around Theon until he lunged. She span around, avoiding it cleanly, before moving forward, remembering what she had practiced, both with Charlie and her own practice from observation over the weeks. The smile on Theon's face faltered a little as they sparred, blades clashing against each other quickly and smoothly. She could hear the cheers coming from around her, and recognised the chuckles of both Dean and Robb. 

Finally, she managed to get a shot to Theon's leg, a move her mother had taught her a long time ago, before kicking him to the floor and grabbing his tourney blade and pointing it at his chest. 

"Yield?" Theon didn't reply, but looked rather dumbfounded and cross. He stood up and cleared his throat with a terse nod. 

Dean bounded forward, congratulating her and wiping away the tears of laughter from his cheeks. He clapped an arm over her shoulders. 

"I think that deserves a beer. Good fighting, Jo." 

"Thanks, Dean-o." 

Jo smiled, and out of the corner of her eye could see Robb looking at her. He was grinning, but when she caught his eye, he turned away slightly. Jo didn't notice the look of admiration or the blush as she left the courtyard. 

 

Castiel

 

Castiel was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. 

Living in a house without moving was hard, living in a house next to a den of inequity watching people come and go was harder, but doing all of it with little to no company was unbearable. 

Kevin had become Baelish's secretary (although he only dealt with some of his writings - the man was secretive, and Castiel was wary of him) so Castiel was seeing less of him.

Thankfully, that morning had proved interesting, as Castiel had been allowed to visit the Red Keep. Even though he was not allowed in the Small Council chamber with Baelish, he had enjoyed breaking his cabin fever. The throne room's large area and isolation had allowed him to properly stretch his wings for the first time since they had arrived in Westeros. 

It had hurt at first as his wings had been badly cramped for a number of weeks. In the throne room, he had been able to stretch, flap and even groom his wings slightly in the isolated time period that he had in the room. He even flew, through not far off the ground as it hurt his wings too much. 

The throne interested him also. It looked incredibly uncomfortable to sit on, and Castiel had pondered upon why any human would ever deliberately build a piece of furniture that way. 

Now feeling marginally refreshed, he returned to the house that Kevin and him had been staying in. He was met by Kevin at the door. 

"Castiel! You need to see this." 

"What is it?" 

"A raven came for Lord Baelish this morning. I wasn't really supposed to read it, but Dean is mentioned, look!" 

He thrusted a piece of paper at Castiel. Castiel read it quickly. 

'Lord Baelish, Lord Eddard Stark has accepted the offer of becoming Hand of the King and the party shall leave soon from Winterfell. He shall be bringing his two daughters and young son Bran....' 

Castiel skimmed further down the page, ignoring various arrangements until he found what he was looking for. 

'....man that Lord Stark has taken in has formidable fighting skills despite his insistence on not being either a sellsword or a knight. I believe that he and his three female accomplices arrived at Winterfell only eight weeks ago with nothing. I would recommend seeking out this one for your own gain. His name is Dean, yet he argues that he has no house. Truly remarkable, it shocked me certainly....' 

Castiel had read enough. 

"Dean is coming south with the King's party. We need to meet him." Kevin nodded. 

"And the three female accomplices...Charlie, Jo and Ellen?" 

"Most likely." 

"What about Sam?" Kevin said. "Is he not with them?" 

Castiel shook his head. "Sam has skills to rival Dean's. If he were with them, Sam would be mentioned also. Sam is not with Dean." 

Kevin looked down. "I hope Sam isn't alone." 

"I hope so too. But Sam is capable of taking care of himself. So long as he doesn't do anything reckless." 

"I'd be more worried about Dean doing reckless things than Sam." Kevin quipped. 

Castiel nodded. He'd seen Dean at his worst. He wanted both Dean and Sam to be safe, and he wished to return home soon as well. He hated his weakened state, wishing that he could fly to this Winterfell that was mentioned and get Dean himself. It reminded him of the time he had had to get buses on Earth. Slow and limiting. 

The best thing that Castiel could hope to do was to find Gabriel, and hope that he had enough grace to transport them all home. However, that would require more resting, a task that he hated with a passion. It was only at Kevin's insistence that he sleep somewhat at all. If you could call it sleeping. Castiel had felt as human as he had done in the apocalypse the last few weeks. He was beginning to feel more, too. Sometimes he felt very sad and other times he felt a mixture of confusion and loss. He had asked Kevin advice on how to deal with it but thus far, Kevin had not provided a sufficient answer. 

"They'll be okay out there, Castiel." Kevin's voice said beside him. 

"Who?" 

"Dean. I know you care about him a lot. Him and Sam. But they're the Winchesters. If anyone can survive this mess, they can." 

Cas nodded. "It's not them I am worried for. You are young, Kevin. You are vulnerable in this society. I remember the Dark Ages well." 

"I'm seventeen, Castiel. And I'm doing okay. I promise. The lack of headaches has helped." 

That wasn't a comfort to Cas, as the lack of prophetic ability that Kevin had displayed troubled him. If Gabriel was active, it would be likely that Kevin's prophet visions would be too, as he was tied to the archangel. It could only mean that Gabriel was in a very bad state, possibly dead. Either way, he was worried. 

"There's a guard going out to the Kingsroad in the morning I hear. To meet the King's party and escort them safely back to the city...." 

"You suggest we go?" 

"Maybe, I don't know. The sooner we get to Dean the better, right?" 

Cas nodded. He hoped for all their sakes that it was sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, comment please? What do you want to see, please say!

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments or suggestions, please give me them! Some plot element you'd like to see? Comment. Ship or bromance you want? Comment. COMMENT. Comments are love. Just...just comment. Please? :)


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